FortySix Seconds
by BashirXena
Summary: A little thing I wrote. Set after Berrisford Agenda. MA


Hey guys. I needed to take a break from What's in a Rune?(Which, if you haven't read, you really should!) I'm kinda stuck, I don't really know where I want to go with that story. Anywho, here's something to whet your M/A appetites, inspired by a line at the beginning of Berrisford.  
  
  
Forty-six seconds. That's exactly how long it takes to get from the kitchen to the front door, not ten minutes, Max. It took ten seconds to descend the staircase, thirteen to walk across one of the living rooms to the aforementioned kitchen.  
  
I remember everything about that house. I remember how many steps it took to get from one room to another and I remember how long it took too.  
  
I also remember that our first kiss lasted 3.2 seconds. When she said 'I love you'; that lasted .25 seconds. That quarter of a second was the most frightening, thrilling and lengthy quarter of a second in my life. Thank Manticore for the photographic memory though. Because of that, I can't forget anything. I can't forget the way she smelled, or how the light in the pool made her skin glow like the moon.  
  
Or the sound of her head hitting the pavement.   
  
So, in all my personal musings and internal turmoil, I go to Crash. True, X5s can't get drunk but I can sure as hell try. I'll try anything to forget what a monster I am.  
  
By the time I'm on my fifth glass, *she* shows up. Max. And of course, like the true hero she wants to be, she has to meddle. She pries, asking if I'm alirght and before I even have the thought to say 'I'm fine' she continues telling me that if I say I'm fine, she'll kick my ass.  
  
Looking at the amber liquid contained in the glass in front of me, I hesitate. The situation could go one of two ways. The first way has me telling her to stay the hell out of my business. Tell her that she didn't have to pretend to give a damn. But I already did it that way last month, when I saw Rachel for the first time in 22 months, three weeks and five days.  
  
Choice number two means I tell her the truth. The truth. Fat chance. Manticore drilled enough in me to always stay guarded, always keep those walls up, because, if they fall, you will too.  
  
But then I look at Max, and see genuine concern in her eyes. And for the first time since I've known her, it's directed at me. She's not concerned over poor uptight Logan. She's not concerned about some nameless, lost transgenic who she let out of Manticore and feels the need to protect.  
  
And I realize that, not only did I kill Rachel, but so did Manticore. If I chose option one, I'd be giving into them, the bastards who took my life without me ever knowing. What makes that worse is that they took it and never told me I should care.  
  
Max always tells me I should care. She cares.  
  
So I pick option two.  
  
I tell her I'm far from fine. In my head, I smile at the shocked expression that hits her face. For a moment, she can't think of anything to say. She probably never thought I'd actually go with her on this.  
  
Then her hand goes to my shoulder and, for once, she's not trying to inflict pain. I realize that she's trying to comfort me. 'Do you want to talk about it?' she asks. I look around the crowded place and my eyes go back to her.   
  
Off my glance around the room, she speaks again. 'Let's go somewhere else.'  
  
Not having the mildest idea why, I follow her out of the bar. As I watch her hair sway with each stride she takes, I realize that despite all the lectures she gives me and all the physical abuse I have to endure from her, she is probably the only person alive who cares about me and can at least semi-grasp what I've been through.  
  
She slides onto her motorcycle and I join her reminding myself not to let my hands travel anywhere. Okay, so I actually make sure they don't travel too much. Hey, I'm a guy and Max is most definitely a woman. Who could help themselves?  
  
Time goes swiftly and before I know it, we're at her place. We make our way up the stairs and enter her apartment.  
  
I instantly search for Cindy.  
  
'She's out tonight. Found some chicky to shack up with for the night,' Max explains noticing my apprehension.   
  
I relax, not much though. I can't relax completely, not around Max. She's always ready to throw something at me, figuratively and literally.   
  
Suddenly, I feel ultra-soft skin on my hand. I look down and see her fingers interlaced with mine. My eyes are on her like starving people to a table with free food.  
  
A small smile turns the corners of her lips. Pulling on my hand gently, she leads me over to the couch. I tentatively sit next to her, our hands still joined. The silence stretches out for miles; I'm not ready to talk just yet and she's unsure how to broach the subject.  
  
Finally making a decision, Max looks at me. 'It's Rachel, isn't it?'  
  
My mouth feels extremely dry at the moment, a combination of the liquor and the emotions spinning circles in me. It's more from the later. Not trusting myself to speak, I only nod.  
  
Her grip on my hand tightens. 'Alec,' she begins. 'I can't pretend to know what you went through. I can only tell you that I'll be here for you.'  
  
She sounded so sincere that I almost fully believed her. But with our history I have to wonder why she cares. So I ask her. Her eyes leave mine and she seams uncertain, even nervous. She bites her lip like she's done so many times before when she's uncomfortable. It's kinda cute.  
  
'Yesterday at lunch, I had a talk with Cindy.' She says this and I've never been more curious about what she has to say. After a moments pause, she goes on. 'She made me realize something that I've been hiding for a long time.'  
  
Her eyes meet mine again and I'm breathless at what I see in them. Affection, and it's directed at me again. So many new things have been directed at me that I'm almost afraid of what she has to say.   
  
'I'm in love with you,' she whispers and I'm still breathless. It's a good thing I can hold my breath for minutes at a time.   
  
When I don't say anything, she begins to get worried. The scared anticipation that was displayed so clearly on her face morphs into sorrow. Her eyes fall from my face.  
  
'I shouldn't have-' I don't let her finish. Ignoring the voice inside my head reminding me of so many things that should stop me, I kiss her. It's not rushed and it's not heated, but it's true.   
  
I feel her arms wrap around me as her shock wears off. And then I am slapped with the reason for my depression earlier. I miss Rachel, yes, but I miss having someone to care about even more. And it occurs to me that when Max lectures me it's only because she cares.  
  
She feels the need to protect us all because she thinks that it's her fault that the rest of us our out in this unforgiving world. It is her fault, but she doesn't know what a blessing it is. She freed us from the prison we didn't even know we were in.  
  
And she's in love with me. What an amazing yet hilarious thought; that someone could possibly love the screwed up monster I am. But Rachel loved me. Scratch that. She loved me as Simon. Rachel had no idea who I really was, but at the time, neither did I.   
  
Max knows who I am. I guess that means she must really love me. Funny thing is, I really love her too. Too bad for us that I have no idea how to tell her.   
  
But, I look over her face and I know that she understands and that she'll be there when I'm ready to tell her.   
  
Forty-six seconds, Max. That's how long it took us to walk out of Crash. It also happens to be how long it took me to realize when I first saw you, that you'd change my life forever. 


End file.
